


Of Ancient History

by alafaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Future, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war tore apart many families and one son decides he's going to fix it. And he's going to start with his own family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Ancient History

Do you know--there's so much written about the war on Voldemort and yet, so little? It's all written--facts, dates, places, the notable names--clear as day in the books printed ten years or so after the war. I think there's even one written five years after. However, for all the facts presented, there's no...three dimension aspect to it. It's all...flat. It's like looking at a fact sheet.

There's nothing personal in any of it.

I know what you're thinking. In truth, it's really confusing even to me. But, personally, I believe that while facts are good, a war isn't fully told until you know what its heroes and civilians and individual soldiers went through during the war. It makes the war real instead of some silly little time period in history nobody is interested in.

And frankly, the war on Voldemort should interest people because of what he did and how he did it and why he did it. No, I don't expect that anyone will ever know his true reasons, but I know at least one person alive who still has the theories.

The other reason I'm upset about this is because...it's part of my history.

And who am I, you may ask?

My name is Alexander Malfoy.

Yes, I am a Malfoy.

No, I don't want to know the war so I can play at being a Death Eater.

I want to know so I can know who my parents are, who their friends were. I can't understand my parents because, well, they don't act like parents.

Merlin, this sounds so confusing. Forgive me; I can't help it. This is what the war did. How it destroyed so many lives and families. I've been in Muggle London and seen the families there, seen how they all act around each other. So, aside from magic, Muggles and wizards are the same and that means that the war has torn us all asunder and...

And how can any of us fix it if we don't know how?

There was a book published recently, by Hermione Granger, one of the wizarding world's Golden Trio, that was very good. Being Muggle-born, she had no qualms about using Muggle psychology to analyze her generation in war time and she also had no qualms about using several Muggle wars for help.

It's too bad many of our Healers are looking down on the book as having no relevance to wizards and witches. After all, the war couldn't possibly be as damaging psychologically as the Muggle Vietnam war. And really, the paranoia following the Muggle WWII and the arrival of Muggle communism really weren't related to how pure-bloods were raised.

Do you hear the sarcasm in those statements?

My father, Draco Malfoy, told me that even though I didn't have to marry a pure-blood, I still needed to carry on the Malfoy line and that I need to know the Malfoy family history. I never asked him, but one thing was always missing in those lessons: how can I tell the entire history when the most recent generation is missing?

How can I show my children and grandchildren that the family has changed if I don't know how it changed? I can't show them either because we certainly don't act like a family. And again, when I've visited friends--Muggle and wizard both--I've seen the differences.

Yes, the Ministry and brave, willing civilians put society back together after the war with Voldemort. The only problem is that they only used school glue and Spellotape. We're still not whole and healed and we're missing part of our identity.

Well, I've had enough. It's past time someone did something and I'm going to try to fix this mess. I'm sure the war is horrible and maybe no one should even read about the trauma and mess of the war never mind live through it again, but how will we ever stop it if we don't know the full horror of such a war?

Enough. Time to put this all back together. Make it whole again and I'm starting with my family.

Of course, there is one problem. My father, Draco Malfoy, will only talk about my school work or the distant family history. The other one, Harry Potter, hasn't been seen since he and Ginny Weasley had their horrendous breakup a year after the war.

No one said this was going to be easy.

Wish me luck.

~~~

_December 2004_

"I just don't understand, Harry," Ron moaned. "Just because the git is helping us doesn't mean we have to include him. Why can't we just dump him with Snape until January?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I just explained this if you had been listening. If we turn our back on Malfoy, how are we any better than Voldemort?"

Ron blinked. He looked almost like an owl who was told to deliver a letter to a person who didn't exist. "What's that mean? Just because we don't include him in our Christmas celebrations doesn't mean we're like _him_. It just means that we don't like Malfoy."

Hermione looked up from where she had been following up on a clue given to them by Snape a couple of days ago on Voldemort's Horcruxes. She, too, wanted to sigh. Ron was frustrating at best of times and these were...the bad times, really.

"Do you realize, Ron, that aside from Tonks and less than half a dozen of our Order members, we're a group of either Muggle-borns or half-bloods or less," she put in. She saw Harry look up and smile faintly, knowing that she had at least understood what Harry had been talking about.

"So?" Ron asked in his oblivious way.

"Voldemort has only pure-bloods in his circle. Those who aren't, like Snape, are really good at pretending otherwise," she continued.

"And there are some of the pure-bloods who know better, but rather than say something, they wait until the right moment to expose the traitors," Harry pointed out.

Hermione nodded. "Here, in the Order, we don't make a big deal out of blood, but we expect tolerance from everyone. We don't want anyone who sprouts about how blood is better and how a long family history of wizards and witches is helpful."

"Which, it can be, as much as a hindrance," Harry added.

"It's two separate ideals, two extremes really," Hermione said sadly. "That said...how can the Order really say it's tolerant of everyone and willing to get along with everyone if we refuse to accept even such an extremely different view point?"

"Voldemort isn't so much about wizard purity, Ron," Harry said softly. "He doesn't care much for the ideals of the pure-bloods. They, the pure-bloods and their ideals, are actually a means to an end for him. He loves power and to him, the Muggles are beneath him because he has a power they don't. He also has no moral code and therefore, nothing to hold him back. This is what he considers a greater asset to his own power since even, to him, the pure-bloods are wrong. They cling to an outdated ideal and rules that can hinder them all."

"And that is what this war was started for," Hermione said softly. "We just made it into something else. However, it is a point that needs to be made. In order to move forward as a society and culture, we need to learn to listen to each other and compromise with all ideals. Taking the good, but leaving behind the bad. Only, how can we do that if we won't listen to anyone else but ourselves?"

"That's why I would like Malfoy at Christmas with us, Ron," Harry said. "I'm trying to make things work without putting anyone down. Besides, he's not that bad when you get to know him."

Ron looked between Hermione and Harry several times before standing up and excusing himself.

Harry sighed and sat back, closing his eyes. Hermione closed the book she'd been reading and propped her head on the heels of her hands. "Don't worry about it too much, Harry," she said quietly. "He doesn't understand."

"I know," Harry murmured. "This was for the best. He needed to know."

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She looked to the floor where hushed words rose up to them from the kitchen. "He was the last you needed to talk to, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "This...what I'm doing...is for the good, right? It's not going to come back and screw me over?"

She smiled softly. "I don't think so. I'm sure there will be some idiot after the war who thinks you're trying to help the pure-bloods and Voldemort, but if you have patience, it'll be all right."

"I just...hate to think of Draco spending the holiday by himself in the potions lab," he said. "Doesn't seem right, you know?"

"I know. It is rather sad." She looked right at him. "You did tell him. Right? About all of this?"

"Of course." He smiled wistfully. "I'm not that teenager anymore, heading right into danger without thinking. I knew that if this was going to work, he would need to be willing to work with us as well. And it'd be easier to talk to one first rather than get the others on my side to find he won't."

"Did...it make him happy, do you think?"

He thought back, to that conversation a month ago, when he had first approached Draco and the subsequent conversations. He nodded slowly. "Yes. At first, he was hesitant. But when I started to talk to him about how I thought of all this mess, between the ideals and all, and how it was important for this to happen...he agreed and seemed even..."

"Glad."

Harry and Hermione looked up in surprise to see Draco Malfoy walking into the library to sit next to Harry. He looked a bit guilty, but willing to talk.

"How do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking as though she had found a very interesting book.

Draco shrugged. "Just that; I'm glad. I know this is going to seem screwed to you both, but this is what it is. My father had once told me that he wanted me to aim for becoming the Minister of Magic. He said the family had always worked behind the scenes, instead of being a scapegoat or a figurehead. Me, though, I wasn't made for creeping in shadows and all that. I was too open, too much like my mother. So, instead, I was to aim for the highest position and show the world what a pure-blood like a Malfoy could do to fix the wizarding world back to the old ways.

"At first, I was excited, being able to do something about the filthy Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and Muggle-lovers. But as time went by and I grew up, I knew I couldn't do it. It wasn't fair in my mind to do it. They had magic; why couldn't they have the same rights? The only problem was that I'd dug myself a hole so deep I didn't know how to get out. When Harry, though, started talking to me about what he wanted to change...I saw a new path open for myself.

"I can be the first pure-blood who still maintains his pure-blood history and ideals while opening himself to the Muggle-borns and half-bloods and maybe one day, Muggles."

"It's all political for you, then?" Hermione asked, a hard edge in her eyes. "Nothing more?"

"Well, I'm not going to off and become the Minister of Magic, let me tell you," Draco said. "For the most part, however...yes, it's political." He glanced at Harry and smiled a little bit. "I do want to keep the friends I've made here, though."

Hermione smiled as she glanced between the two boys and saw a few new things that had changed since she'd last seen the two together. Well, what happened is what happened. She opened her book and started to read again.

Harry shook his head as he saw the glint in Hermione's eyes. He just knew that there was something she would say, but in the meantime, would leave him clueless in the dark. Of course, it might have to do with that little bit of his hormones that hadn't been behaving lately when he'd been around Draco or Charlie. In which case, he really rather she would never say.

"So, how's the potions going? All right?" He asked, turning to Draco, trying to forget Hermione and her secret.

Draco nodded. "Very well. Snape brought me some new herb he said would do better in the Wolfsbane and Remus agreed. We'll see next week."

"Harry!"

All three of the room's occupants looked sharply toward the door as Ginny Weasley sprinted into the room to latch onto Harry's neck. Hermione bit her lip as she between Draco, who looked like he'd been denied a good Christmas despite what Harry had been doing, and Harry, who looked faintly ill.

"Well, I'm off back to the lab," Draco announced, standing up. "Potions to brew. Hermione. Harry. ...Ginny." He left quickly, shoulders drooping.

Hermione felt conflicted. While her and Harry weren't as close as they used to be, she knew that there was something going with Harry's feelings about Ginny and knew her presence would help keep a distance she suspected Harry wanted between Ginny and him. But she was torn, knowing that Draco needed someone to talk to. He would usually talk to Harry, but Harry was obviously busy.

"I don't know how you put up with him, Harry," Ginny said as she settled onto Harry's lap. "He's so...cold."

Harry sighed and shrugged. "It's not that hard once you get to know him."

Ginny laughed quietly. "Why would anyone want to get to know him?"

Hermione bit her lip as she watched Harry. The Harry from their Hogwarts day would have jumped up, yelling. But Harry demonstrated he had grown up past that anger and reaction. He merely moved Ginny so he could stand. 

"I want to. He's a good wizard, Ginny." He glanced at Hermione, giving them the split second to let Hermione know that there was a good reason why he was acting like this. "I have to go to. Kingsley wanted to talk to me about something. Later, Gin. Hermione."

Hermione sighed as she watched her friend leave and then turned to Ginny.

"I don't understand him anymore, Hermione," the redhead whispered. She looked like she was going to cry. "He's someone...different..."

~~~

_3 July 2024 Weasley-Granger Home_

I wiped my hands on my pants, trying to be cool. When I told my father where I was going and why, he threw a fit. He told me that the past was just that: past. It had happened and now it was done and over with. No point in going back through it. I don't really care too much about his opinion, but I knew from his reaction that what happened back then was something really difficult. So, I took the time to calm him down and tell him why I'm doing this.

I just...have to know. Everyone I went to school with was effected by the war. Sure, our grandparents and older aunts and uncles knew the first war on Voldemort had lasted some time, but the aftermath of that war took it's real toll on the years after. The fear of dark, black magic; the fear of someone different; the fear of intolerance. It caused so much anger and mistrust between my parents' generation. When the second war was declared, it was only as a formality. It had been growing and, to certain degrees, fought in the years of so-called quiet.

So, it really isn't a surprise that the second war ended rather quickly. That aside, though, I know from what has been written--mostly by Hermione Weasley-Granger--that what happened in those years is a tale that will help me know why so many families are broken up.

For even though there is not one of the recent generations who were not affected, people like myself have had entire pages of history taken from us and it hurts us the most because the heroes and villains whose names are everywhere and most remembered are...our parents.

To everyone else, our parents are glorified or vilified, depending respectively on their part in the war. To us, they're mom and dad and aunt and uncle. The war took from them so much and weaved a tale that has never been written or spoken of and has damaged them so we're not whole any more.

We're like the reflection of the wizard society. We are the mirror of them.

I have to know to make things right again. (Though, according to my father, I'm far too much like my Dad in this respect.)

I take a deep breath and knock on the door. Someone should be home, even if it's Jessica Weasley-Granger. I know she hadn't figured out what to do with her life after graduation and was staying home for a little bit to find out. Like me, she also feels lost without that bit of history.

Luckily for me, it's not just Jessica who is home. Hermione Weasley-Granger opens the door and looks shocked for a moment. She takes a deep breath as her eyes sweep down my frame and then opens the door wider. "Come on in, dear," she says.

Oh, did I mention that while I have Father's fair hair, I'm an almost exact replica of my dad? Green eyes and a body made for the Seeker position. Yeah, I did get some questions about who my mother was since my father just returned to the country with me in hand and no record of a mum. I knew better, though. I knew that if anyone ever once knew my dad was _the_ Harry Potter, I would be put in a rather awkward position. Then I'm sure Dad would have found out and I couldn't do that to my father.

Jessica is in the living room, reading a book. She looks up when we enter and smiles. "Hey, Alex. All right?" I had told her what I planned to do after school. She agreed that something needed to be done.

"Well enough. And you?" I ask politely.

She shrugs. "Enough." She bookmarks the page she was reading. "I'll make tea, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley-Granger nods her head and Jess leaves the room to the back of the house. Mrs. Weasley-Granger offers me a wing-back chair and sits slowly. She takes a deep breath and looks me over again.

This was going to be difficult, I knew, so I decide to skip some basic things. "My name is Alexander Malfoy and, yes, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are my fathers."

Mrs. Weasley-Granger takes a deep breath. "I had heard about you from my daughter, but I...are you sure Harry is your father? I mean, I know you look like him, but..."

I nod. "I know. My father, Draco, never told me about any other parent. He's been quiet my entire life. I asked Severus one day, but he said he didn't know." I smile as I remember that day. It was one to remember. "I decide to throw a tantrum since it has always been the quickest way to get his help for anything. He said there was a potion he could brew for me that would help."

"And he did it?" she asked. "Was he shocked?"

"Of course," I answered, "but not really. He mumbled something about teenagers and bumbling idiots and wiped the potion away." I shrugged. It didn't make sense to me, but I had accepted it given that was how my great godfather acted. From the look on her face, I knew that this was something normal.

"Yes, that was Severus to a 't'," she said. She sighed and shook her head. When she looked at me, it was with clear eyes and a look that said that she had some inkling of what I was there for. "This isn't a social call, is it?"

"No, I'm afraid not," I mumbled.

Jess returned at that moment with the tea. She set it down on the coffee table and served herself a cup before resuming her seat. "He's less social than his fathers, mum. He'd never come here to see me."

Mrs. Weasley-Granger laughed. "Perhaps." She looked at me again. "So, then. What are you here for?"

I shared a glance with Jess who gave me a look that said, _go for it_. I took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I'm trying to fix things."

Mrs. Weasley-Granger raised her eyebrow. "Is that so? I think that if your fathers haven't talked to each--"

"Oh, no. I'm not looking to get my fathers back together," I said quickly. "I'm just trying to put history back together."

Mrs. Weasley-Granger's eyes hardened and she turned to her daughter. "Jess, can you go to your room, please? Or go outside with your brother and sister?"

Jess seemed to know that there was something going wrong here and she looked at me, demanding silently that I let her know everything later. Then she smiled tightly at her mum and with her book and tea, left the house. When we were alone, Mrs. Weasley-Granger looked at me and I felt suddenly like the foolish teenage I still act like sometimes.

"I'm sure your father, Draco, told you this all ready, but...leave it be," she said. Her voice had a hard edge to it, like a steel blade. "No one has any business digging into the war and it will be exactly how it is."

Several things occurred to me at that moment and I didn't like a single one. In my quest to know the war and its people, I'd read every bit of information I'd been able to find on it. In every single book, every reference, her name, Hermione Weasley-Granger, was always present. Not a single source had ever failed to include her. From her attitude in this present moment, I knew exactly why I only ever found facts.

"And why should it remain that way?" I demanded, standing up. "My friends and myself, your children included, cannot ever know our families properly because of that same attitude! Our grandchildren and theirs will never know this war and be able to prevent a similar one because all it is, is facts; nothing that tells of its horrors!"

She took a deep breath. "And it is those horrors that prevent anything other than facts to be printed! You weren't there. You don't know the toll it took on us and what it destroyed in us."

I squared my shoulders. "I know Muggle history, much like you do, and I know there are ways to show the horror without taking away whatever any of you have left," I retorted. "The public aside, do you know what this silence is doing to my friends and myself? Whatever the war took from you destroyed us, too! We've never known a proper family because the vital parts of our parents had been torn!

"All I'm seeking to make our families whole again and then use that to show the public why this war should not be repeated!"

Mrs. Weasley-Granger was silent for a moment, her eyes again assessing me, and then she smiled. "For a moment there, I saw your dad, Harry."

I was so shocked by this comment, I was mute. My mind, however, was racing. From what I had been able to find out from Severus, my dad had never known his parents and so when he had returned to the wizarding world, there were a lot of comments made about how much he looked like his parents. I wondered if he had ever been as shocked as I was now.

After all, I had been told I do look like my father. On the other hand, I had always wished someone would be able to see a little bit of my dad in me. I'd given up on ever once hearing it. Now...

Mrs. Weasley-Granger took a shuddering breath, eyes misting up. "There was a time, during the war...he...made us get along with your father. Not just because they were friends; he was trying to make a point about how the Order treated the ideals of the pure-bloods and how they treated those who spouted the pure-blood ideals. And just now..." She shook her head and slowly sat down.

"I'm sorry for doing this, but..." I started, but she held up her hand.

"No, I think I understand," she said. She closed her eyes for some moments and I was beginning to think that maybe she had undergone...what had she called it in her book...a war flashback, but then she turned to me and her eyes were crystal clear.

"In those last months of the war, it was brutal," she said softly. I had to lean forward to hear her. "Ron had left us and was captured by some Death Eaters who tortured him. When he came back, he had been tagged and we, Harry, Ron, and I, were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor." She shuddered. "It was horrible. I think, in those last months, Voldemort knew he was at the end. We think he knew he was close to death...He unleashed a monster inside of this Death Eaters. They were almost...inhuman."

Again, I remind readers that though I didn't want to become a Death Eater, this was the sort of gore I'd been looking for. The clue to my parents past and character. (And, for the record, too, it was in this moment that I had some clarity...when something horrible happens to a person, they begin to wonder why it happened to them, why them...it was this that I knew was my reason...my father had always been distant, less than a parent and my Hogwart's friends had felt the same and we had always wanted to know why, much like a person diagnosed with terminal cancer.)

Mrs. Weasley-Granger waved her wand and a cup of tea made itself before flying into her shaking hands. "Horrible time..."

"Again, I'm sorry to bring this up..." I tried to explain myself, but she held up her hand again.

"No, it needs to be," she smiled secretly as she had a sip of tea. "I wrote that book about war trauma, but I never realized...I'd overlooked really...We all need to confront this to really end it."

I dug into my bag for the recorder I'd bought for this reason. I laid it on the table, as a way of telling her I was ready to hear it and get it for the record.

She looked at me strangely. "Yes, much like your dad. Harry...was the same as you, in those last months."

I hung my head. "Thanks. I think."

"If he had known about you, he would have been there," she told me.

I nodded. "I figured. He's not the sort to just leave any one, is he?" Okay, that was a shameless dig at knowing this person with whom I shared my blood but didn't know.

Mrs. Weasley-Granger laughed. "No. He's not. Turn it on, dear, and I'll tell you what I know."

~~~

_Malfoy Manner, Present_

"It's completely stupid," Draco groaned, leaning against the stone wall of the potions lab.

"It's not," Severus retorted. He added something quickly to the Wolfsbane he was working on and then set a Stasis and Time spell on the cauldron before standing upright. "It's smart, actually."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "Aren't you concerned about what he'll find out about you?"

Severus smiled. "No. I've never pretended to be the good guy. I simply went where survival was best for me."

"What about Har--Potter's mum?" Draco asked. And gave himself a pat on the back in his head. He had stopped using Harry's name when he had found about the wedding with the she-Weasley.

Severus shrugged. "A momentary lapse." He washed his hands quickly and then turned to Draco, eyes hard. "But don't follow my example. I've led a lonely life, Draco. You and Alex, you were never mine. I've had my potions. Nothing else and it's been...a hard, lonely, and cold life. You and Potter...I remember you both when you were at Headquarters. You were happy then."

Draco growled. "Get to the point." He sensed, however, where his godfather was going and he didn't like it.

Severus sighed. "He made you happy and I saw how devastated you were when he announced his impending nuptials with Ms. Weasley. I don't think Alex is on this crusade to get you back with Potter, but when Potter finds out about Alex...well...fate, I think will have a surprise in for you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I think you spent too much time with the old Headmaster. You're talking in riddles."

Severus laughed. "It comes with age, Draco. You learn that the young will never listen to you when you talk with them straight and so, to lead them to where you want or need them to go, you give them a riddle they can't help solving. Makes it easier."

Draco rolled his eyes. He was silent for a moment while Severus pulled out another cauldron and began to start another batch of whatever he was working on. Then, very quietly, he asked, "Do you think he could still love me?"

Severus looked up with a small smile. "I don't think he ever stopped. He's that sort of person."

~~~

_Grimmauld Place, July 2004_

Severus Snape, to Harry Potter anyway, seemed to have lost an edge to his demeanor that somehow made him look more...approachable. Harry wondered if it was the loss of Dumbledore that had done it. After all, the loss had made fewer people approach Harry because he looked meaner. It made Harry realize, years after Sirius had fallen through The Veil, that death would not only change the character of a person, but also his physical appearance.

Amazing thing, death.

"Why should we take your word about the boy, eh?" Moody piped up. "He's Malfoy's son after all and I don't think anyone of that line should be trusted."

Ever since he had started hunting for the Horcruxes with Hermione and Ron, Harry found his brain had suddenly started working on overdrive. He was having trouble sleeping not only because he was still having visions and able to go into Voldemort's mind, but because he couldn't stop his brain from thinking. Now, even as he was watching and wondering about Snape, he thought back to the Astronomy Tower _that_ night and how Malfoy had hesitated.

"He's agreed to Veritaserum testing," Snape pointed out. "And you have my honor as a Potions master that he will excel at producing potions for the Order."

"I still don't like it," Moody growled. "The boy will probably turn on us."

"But we don't know that," Remus spoke up. "Frankly, I rather like the idea of having him here."

"Well, you would, wouldn't you?" Fred spoke up. It'd been easier to tell the twins apart since George had lost his ear. "Your potions would always be on time."

Remus sighed. "It's not about that. While yes, that is a great comfort, the fact is we cannot expect Severus to continue making us potions for our wounded and ill when the demands put on him by Voldemort continue to grow."

There were several murmurs around the group in agreement, especially from McGonagall who knew what strain Madam Promfrey was under. 

"But what about the time he let the Death Eaters into the school?" Ron asked. "Everyone said that no one could get into the school, but he figured it out. Who's to say he won't let them in here?"

Again, there were some general murmuring in agreement.

Harry sighed and looked at Hermione. She nodded and shrugged. They had found out rather quickly that if Harry knew exactly what he was talking about, everyone would follow his example. In addition to no longer acting like a reckless teenager, rushing headlong into danger and trouble, he had come into his magical majority and it had garnered him a lot of respect in the Order.

He stood, causing all eyes to turn to him. He could feel the weight of so much responsibility on his shoulders, knowing that now that he had stood, what he said would be as good as gold and they all knew it. He saw, too, Snape's posture relax. He, too, knew all of that. Snape knew he'd won the battle.

"He stays with us," Harry said. "When he gets here, we'll test him with the Veritaserum--" he nodded toward Moody who looked grateful, "--and that there is always two of us in the house to prevent anything from happening." It wasn't a lot, but it would be enough.

"Thank you, Potter," Snape said. "I'll have him ready to settle in by tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "Fine. Is there anyone who is willing to bring in some potion supplies so he can begin to brew?"

"I'll do it," George spoke up. "I'll clean the lab up, too. It's horrendous."

Harry smiled. "Thanks." He looked around the table. "Is there any other business?"

No one spoke. McGonagall rose. "Then this meeting is closed."

As soon as the words were spoken, everyone broke up into smaller groups and Harry, ignoring Ron for the moment, made his way over to Snape. "Sir?"

Snape turned and regarded Harry carefully. "Yes?"

"When you bring him here, I'd like to know," Harry said. "I want to explain--"

"How noble of you," Snape sneered. "Don't waste your time. He won't listen."

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm sure he'll insult me and try to hex me, but at least I'll have made an effort to show him that there are a few of us who are willing to reach out."

Snape assessed Harry slowly. "For only a few short months, Mr. Potter, you have grown quite fast. I'm surprised you've managed to find out that there are others who exist and matter in this world."

Harry looked through the doorway to the lingering members of the Order. "Yes, well..." He shook his head, unable to say exactly what he wanted to.

Snape slowly put his hand on Harry's shoulder. He looked awkward. "You are going to do well. I'm sure of it."

"Well, with our spy, we will," Harry joked. He couldn't find a smile for it, though.

Snape removed his hand and sighed. "Make no mistake, Mr. Potter. While your friends shall be able to help you with the Horcruxes, you alone will have that final decision to end this war. I know you will make the right choice."

He left in his usual fashion, with his robes billowing, and Harry watched the other wizard leave, feeling as though he had passed another milestone in his life. Ron caught up with him and watched Snape leave, too.

"Harry, I don't know what you've been thinking lately, but...you've changed, mate."

Harry shook his head. "I've had to, Ron. We've all had to. It's called survival."

"And survival means accepting that slimy git in here?" Ron asked.

A feeling of presentiment crawled up Harry's back and he really hoped it would pass and never happen, whatever it was. "Yes. In a way."

_The Next Day_

Harry looked up from his book as he heard the front door open. Since George had all ready arrived with the potion supplies, he knew who had just come in. He bookmarked the page and stood, stretching muscles that protested movement. Ever since that raid in southern England, his back and shoulders had been tense. Bloody war.

Snape nodded his head at Harry and Malfoy wouldn't look up. "Come on up. I've had Kreacher prepare a room." He started up the stairs to lead the way.

"Potter," Malfoy called. Harry turned and look at his former rival. "Um...I think...it might be easier if I had a room near the lab."

Harry smiled. "You got it, actually. There are no rooms down near the lab and the nearest bedroom is on the the third floor. Sorry."

Malfoy looked wide-eyed, but started up the stairs when Snape prodded Malfoy in the back. The trip was quick and when they arrived, Snape decided to take his leave.

"I've got to go. Voldemort needs my expertise for something," he said. "I'll be back when I can. Good evening."

He swept off and Malfoy made a small step to follow. When the front door sounded again, Malfoy turned to Harry, his body tense. "Can I rest, tonight? Before I start to make the potions or have to face the Order?"

Harry nodded. "Of course. The next meeting isn't until Friday anyway. That's a couple of days so you'll have until then to be prepared to testify before them."

"Tes-testify?" Malfoy stuttered. "Snape never said..."

Harry sighed and looked away. "I'm sorry. None of them wanted you here and the only way Snape and I could get them to let you stay is if you brew potions to help and to submit to a session of Veritaserum."

Silence. "At least...at least I'm not..near him..anymore."

Harry looked up and shook his head. "I won't lie to you. We may not torture for fun or for no reason, but it's going to be bad."

Malfoy studied Harry. "But at least I won't be kicked like a dog."

"You'll be ignored worse than a house-elf, though."

Malfoy looked into his room and then back to Harry. "I still hate you."

"You probably will until we die."

Malfoy shook his head and went into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

As Harry studied the wood, Hermione came up the stairs. When she saw Harry, she went right over. "All right?"

Harry shrugged. "As well as any one can be right now."

~~~

_Weasley-Granger residence, Present Day_

I sighed and turned off the recorder. Mrs. Weasley-Granger was putting away a soggy handkerchief. I had known it would be horrific, but to that extent...no wonder none of them wanted to face it. I wouldn't have if I had lived then. There was only one problem--it wasn't the whole story.

"My dad knows the rest, doesn't he?" I asked quietly.

Mrs. Weasley-Granger nodded. "He does. I've told you everything else. Well, as l I know it. Ron could tell you more about what happened to him, but I doubt he would want to talk about it. He's always been more private than Harry."

I nodded. It was good, what she had given me, but there were holes missing. Mainly, how my dad had defeated Voldemort and what had happened between Dad and Father. I had now in my bag the personal tale of what they had all gone through, but the side story, the romance and betrayal, was missing.

I had the third dimension the history books needed; now I needed to know the rest so I could tell the kids and grandkids.

"I suppose you're off to see your dad?" Mrs. Weasley-Granger asked, looking at me.

I shook my head. "No." When I saw the shocked look, I smiled. "I need to talk with your sister-in-law, Ginny. My dad is the last piece of the puzzle. He'll make it make sense in a way I don't think any of you can. I need the other pieces before that."

She was looking at me curiously. "Why do you say that?"

I shrugged. "It's what I can sense. I think my dad had these kinds of intuitions, too."

She nodded. "Yes, he did. You're probably right." She stood and offered her hand.

I stood as well. "Thank you for telling me this." I shook her hand and then bowed to kiss it formally, as my father had taught me.

She chuckled warmly. "It had to happen. I think, if Harry hadn't been so hurt, he would have done the same."

I eyed her curiously. "Hurt?"

She folded her hands in front of her stomach. "Hurt, yes. By Ginny."

I smiled. "One of the pieces my dad will have for me. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes." She moved to the fireplace and took down a photo that had had no frame. She turned back to me and gave it to me. "We receive one of these every year from him. I'd received it yesterday, ironically."

I took it and saw an almost mirror reflection looking at me. It was Dad, standing against a smooth piece of stone. "Stonehenge?"

She nodded secretly. "Yes. It's something quite hidden inside history. It was a magical gathering site as it has a natural well-spring of magical energy. A forgotten piece of ancient lore that has passed into myth."

"It would hide his signature," I murmured.

"Yes. It's the perfect place for him to hide."

"Thank you." I made to give her the picture, but she shook her head.

"Keep it. You need one of him and I've got more than enough." She started to clean up the mess from our tea. "Go talk with Jess since she's dying to know what I've told you and then off to the Burrow with you."

"That's where Ginny is?"

"Has been since her and Harry broke it off. Drives her mum batty, but there it is."

~~~

_Grimmauld Place, 18 August 2004_

Harry knocked on the door to the potions lab quietly, so nothing went flying. It had happened early on, when Malfoy had arrived at the house. He wasn't used to so many people and was easily startled. Although he had adjusted, Harry was still respectful and knocked quietly. He didn't want to distract the blond wizard completely in case Malfoy was concentrating.

"I'm done for now," Malfoy called out. "Just reading something in Severus' notes."

Harry smiled and sat in a stool that was not near any cauldrons. "Anything useful?"

Malfoy smirked. "Of course. Didn't know you had it in you to use a spell you didn't know."

Harry laughed. He knew exactly what Malfoy was referring to. "Well, what can I say? You were about to use an illegal spell on me."

Malfoy looked up. He propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. "Such an odd one, you are. I thought I had you figured out, you know. And then sixth year made me have to reassess my image of you."

"And now?" Harry asked innocently. "Am I still challenging it?"

Malfoy sighed. "Sadly." He looked around the lab. "It's difficult, though. I don't see you as often as I saw you in school."

Harry smiled. "Well, how about we call a truce and get to know one another? So you can figure me out?"

Malfoy scoffed. "And why would anyone want to get to know you, Potter? You're as two dimensional as paper is."

Harry laughed. "I just thought you might want to actually get along with someone who doesn't think you're worse than the gum on the streets."

Malfoy shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see about it." He flipped some pages in Snape's old journal and then pointed to an old recipe for a cure for snake poison. "Do you think you can find me these ingredients?"

Harry bent his head to look and shrugged. "It might take a little bit since some are illegal, but I can. Why?"

Malfoy bit his lip and looked at the door real quick. Harry got the hint and cast _Muffliato_. Malfoy said, "Snape told me about the Horcruxes. He said that with my intelligence, I might be able to help. If what he told me is true, you'll want this on hand when you get to Nagini."

Harry nodded. "It would. Thanks."

Malfoy smiled at him.

_January 2005_

Harry looked up when he heard shuffling footsteps. It was 2:35 in the morning and most of the Order had resumed their missions. He assumed he'd be alone when he started his research anew.

"Gin? Are you all right?" He asked softly when he saw the pale gold hair. 

She looked tired, careworn, and when she sat across from him, she sagged in her seat. "Not really, Harry."

He could sense that his was another one of those moments he dreaded, but saved his page and sat back. "Want to talk?"

She looked him in the eye. "Are we...okay?"

Ah, this was the conversation. He'd been dreading it ever since early December, when he had finally convinced Ron that having Draco in for the Order's Christmas and Yule celebrations was a good thing. He bit his lip, unsure of how to deal with this. He had learned how to lead others into a battle and learned how to duel like a wizard ten years his senior, but dealing with girls...still clueless.

Truth was, ever since he started spending time with Draco, he found himself wishing to have more time with the other man and wondering what it would be like to kiss him. He'd also stopped thinking about Ginny so much.

"No, we're not," he said softly.

Her eyes teared up. "Why?"

"Because I've changed, Ginny, and..." He ran his hand through his hair, wondering what to say now.

"I can change, too, Harry," she whispered.

He shook his head. "No. I don't want you to."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "You don't want me anymore?"

"That's not what I meant." He sighed. "I mean, I love you, Gin. I love you the way you are. But...we can't be together because I'm not who I was and I'd rather you stay you, the way I love you rather than make you change into something I'm not sure I can love."

"And why can't we be together?" she pleaded.

"I've changed too much to give you what you need and deserve, love."

She breathed, deeply and swallowed, hard. She nodded grimly and then tore out of the room. She didn't see the dark spectre that stood in the hall. She didn't see the same spectre move into the library and stare at Harry, eyes and heart heavy.

She didn't see the other reason why Harry didn't want her any more; didn't see the way he kissed Draco Malfoy.

~~~

_The Burrow, Present_

Molly Weasley folded the last of the laundry that had been drying outside on the line when she happened to look up and almost had a heart attack. Coming up the winding lane, there was a figure that looked almost exactly like Harry. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn that it was Ginny's lost child.

When they were three feet apart, he smiled and bowed. "Mrs. Weasley."

Blond hair. This had to Malfoy's child, but those green eyes...He smiled. "My name is Alexander Malfoy and I'm here to see Ginny, please."

She nodded mutely and let him in.

_Alex_

I was a little afraid I was going to have to deliver the news that Mrs. Weasley had suffered a heart attack to the family when I saw the look in the family matron's eyes when I was close. I knew I looked like my dad, but I never realized how much I did until I met these people. I was like a ghost to them. I couldn't help but wonder what my dad was like if he inspired this kind of feeling in people.

As soon as we were in the cool shade of the house, the matron put the laundry down and moved to the stairs to call for her daughter.

"Do you want some tea, dear?" she asked me.

"Do you have some water instead?" I asked. "It was a long walk."

She smiled. "Yes. We never reset the wards after the war. I apologize."

"No, it's fine. I don't think my father will ever reset his even if my dad tells him to." As soon as I said that, my eyes go wide and she looks at me with a more critical eye.

She sets the glass down in front of me and wipes her hands on her apron. "You said your name is Alexander Malfoy?"

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She runs an eye over me. "Then Harry is..."

I sigh and nod again. "He is. I'm not sure how or when and that's one of the reasons why I'm out here."

She sits across from me. "I don't think Ginny will know, dear." She stops as I take a sip of the water. "You must be around Jess' age, a bit older. During the war then?"

I shrugged. "I think so. No one ever talks about that time and my father will never talk about anything other than school or the family history."

She sighed and shakes her head. "Such a confusing time. For all of us."

I nod. "I've gathered."

"What are you here for?" she asks suddenly.

I take a long drink of the water before answering. Mrs. Granger had told me that Ginny would prove to be difficult (I had some Veritaserum in my pocket as a last resort, from Mrs. Weasley-Granger herself), but I had not been warned about the Weasley matron.

"Everyone was affected by the second war, but those of us who were the children of the heroes and villains of the war most deeply. It took from us a sense of family since our parents were irrevocably changed. But we don't know why. We'd like to know why so we can help and be more patient with our parents. It's also part of the family history.

"I'm here to change that. I've gotten most of it from your daughter-in-law, Hermione Granger, and when I have permission from everyone mentioned, I plan to publish it. To help the public come to term with how devastating it was and why it should be prevented. I also want to use it to help other families, like mine, heal.

"I could have just come here to ask for permission, but...I'm also here because I want to know what happened. I know my dad is Harry Potter, but why isn't he with my father? Why is he in exile from the world? And how does Ginny fit into this?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded as if that made sense. "I think I know what you're talking about. When my children and grandchildren visit me, I can't help but notice something is off about it. It also has to do with the fact that your parents' generation grew up in the aftermath of the war that was never cleaned up; just hushed up. It..did make a difference, I think."

I nodded. "I'm trying to fix things and ignoring it like the last war will be of no help."

At that moment, Ginny stepped into the kitchen. Her eyes were hard. "I know you. You're Malfoy's brat, aren't you?"

I stood. "Ms. Weasley."

She flinched at the name and I wondered if she had ever given up hope that she would be Dad's wife. "I have nothing to say to you. I heard you, you know. Talking about what you're doing. I won't help."

"Ginevra, please," Mrs. Weasley said as she, too, stood up. "He just wants to know what happened."

She narrowed her eyes and I felt like an insect on display, about to get put on a case to be looked at by children for years to come. Sometimes Severus looked at me like that when I was being difficult. I kept my hand steady even though it wanted to caress the potion vial I had in my pocket as a last resort.

"Fine. But I won't be put on any record."

~~~

_Grimmauld Place, 23 September 2005_

"Here," Draco said. He placed a potion vial on the table in front of Harry.

"Is that the antidote for Nagini?" Harry asked, looking up from his study of the table's wood grains. He was so bloody exhausted. That bloody woman, Bellatrix, had proved more than a challenge and shortly thereafter, he'd had a bit of an argument with Ginny.

"Yes," Draco said. He sat next to Harry, chest brushing Harry's arm. "Sorry it took so long."

Harry shrugged as he turned so they faced each other. "At least I have it."

Draco smiled, but then, he frowned and looked ready to cry. "You better remember it, you dolt."

Harry sighed forlornly and pulled Draco out of his chair onto his lap. "I have to. For you."

Draco nodded. "For us."

Harry licked his lips and came to an abrupt decision. Almost at the same moment, Draco narrowed his eyes. "Potter." Harry winced. Draco only called him by his surname when they disagreed with something.

"What?"

"We've been over this before," Draco whispered. "I refuse to have sex with you while we're still fighting a bloody war."

Harry sighed. "Just listen to me, okay? We'll make it through this. I'm sure of it. But...Draco...what if...and we..." He shook his head and smiled. "Never mind. You're right."

Draco took his head between both hands and they stared into each others eyes. After some time, Draco slowly kissed Harry. When they broke apart, Draco whispered, "Now. You're right. We've both been silly to hold back. We've only got now, that's what this war taught us."

"Are you sure?" Harry's mouth had gone dry, but his cock was hard and leaking.

Draco nodded and moved off of Harry. "Come on, love. No one will look for you in my room."

Harry smiled and happily followed Draco up to the third floor to Draco's room. There, they locked the door manually before casting several spells for wards and silence. They started kissing, removing bits of clothing as they moved toward the bed before collapsing, nude, onto the comforter.

"How?" Harry whispered as he bent to suckle Draco's neck.

"I want you to fuck me," Draco said.

_Ginny_

Ginny Weasley clasped her arms tighter around herself. There were footsteps going into the dining room, but no one saw her. She had pulled herself into a closet, where neither Harry or Malfoy would find her when they'd gone upstairs. She couldn't believe they had...were...

Silently, she began to cry. _And plot._

~~~~

_The Burrow, November 2005_

Ginny bit her lip as she started at the cup of hot chocolate, preparing herself for what she was about to do. She picked up the mug and went to the living room where Harry sat, by himself. He'd just come from Grimmauld Place where he had helped Malfoy gather the last of his belongings before heading to Australia to hide out until Harry got him cleared.

Well, too bad for Malfoy. Ginny would make sure Harry would be too busy to clear either Malfoy or Snape of the Death Eater and war crime charges. She would have Harry all to herself. At last.

"Here, this might help," she said softly, sitting next to Harry.

Blindly, Harry took the cup and began to drink it. "A little, yeah. Thanks, Gin."

She smiled. "No problem." She did a quick glance around. "It's got a little firewhisky in it. To help."

Harry half-smiled and continued to drink. He didn't talk and Ginny didn't know what to say that wouldn't give her away. She eyed the clock; she only had 45 minutes left until the fertility potion she took wouldn't work and she hoped that the aphrodisiac in the hot chocolate worked fast. The way that Harry was drinking it, it looked well enough.

Six minutes later, she knew she had it. Harry had put the cup down, putting a hand to his head, saying he felt ill. She had smiled and said it was all right, just the firewhisky. Harry had shaken his head and tried to get up, but she pulled him down onto the couch.

He moaned as she straddled him and began to thrust her hips against his, looking confused rather than aroused. Well, it didn't matter. The potion was working on his body and she quickly finished her plan.

~~~

_Stonehenge, Present_

Harry Potter sighed as he looked out to the rolling meadow that edge the forest where he had built his hut. The ancient ruins stood some miles off, but still, the magic strong enough to keep him hidden. Muggles were over there, a tour guide explaining what little the Muggles knew of it. They never once looked over at him, despite the hut being clear enough on this bright day. Thank Merlin for wards.

For some reason, he'd been dreaming a lot lately of the times at the end of the war. He'd also been remembering the happy times he'd had with Draco.

He had learned through his years that dreams and memories were often subjected to fate and magic, clamoring for attention when a person was being called in a certain direction. But he wondered why now, after these twelve years, he'd be remembering those times. It hurt to think of them, knowing that he'd had happiness that had been stolen.

He'd thought for sure that he'd have Draco and Snape cleared of their charges in a couple of months and when Draco returned, they'd be okay.

Again, Harry sighed. He really hoped Ginny got what she deserved after what she did. He had found out from the twins (who had used some underhanded tactics to get Ginny to admit this) that the girl had used two potions that night to get herself pregnant and thereby trap him into a marriage he didn't want.

Her parents, he knew, had been outraged when they had found out and last Harry heard, Ginny had been tied to her home, forced to realize what a mistake she'd made. He hoped she was still there. Not that he wished her on her parents for that long; it was only that Mrs. Weasley was a force of nature and so long as Ginny was at the Burrow, the elderly matron would make sure that Ginny regretted her mistake for years.

If only Draco had been as understanding.

Of course, they would have had to talk for Draco to have understood that and they hadn't since Draco and Snape had gone to Australia. When they'd both received the all clear to come back, it had been with Draco carrying a small child with the unmistakable Malfoy hair and Harry knew he had to do something. 

Because it had hurt, knowing the mess that had been created under the main heading in the _Prophet_ following Voldemort's defeat. Such a mess. Harry couldn't handle it. Not to mention the public, all wanting to know how he'd defeated Voldemort. They wanted to know what had happened with Ginny and why he'd helped Draco. And did he know anything about Draco's child or the child's mother?

No. He couldn't deal. He left. He'd stayed for Ron and Hermione's wedding and the birth of their child. He had stayed to help with the child since he was the godfather and both the parents were busy trying to help make the world better for the little one.

But in July, when the repairs were finally happening and he was still being chased by relentless reporters and writers and fans, he left. Enough, he thought. I've done enough and been hurt enough.

He'd been happy to choose the ancient ruins as his home. No one would ever find him so far from civilization and the ancient magic cloaked him completely. This was good. He could forget in peace here.

So why then the dreams and memories?

_Alex_

I wasn't listening much to the tour guide blather on about the ruin and what Muggles knew. It was fascinating they knew so much, but I was here for some other reason. I wanted to know the lay of the land before plunging headfirst and end up tripping some ward before being face to face with my dad and one of the most powerful wizards alive.

I turned my head toward a wooded area and saw it; a hut, simple, with powerful wards. And a man sitting on the porch, looking lost in thought. I cast a subtle Notice-Me-Not Charm (I was at the back of the group; no one would ever notice I'd gone, but still) and began the walk to the hut. I was prepared to be met with an invisible wall that I couldn't pass through, but to my surprise, I kept walking. I removed the spell I had cast and walked to the front steps.

The man who had sitting there was now standing and looking down at me, looking confused, but at the same time, as if he knew all along who I was.

"Well, it's a good thing I chose that particular ward," the man said. His voice was deep and commanding and he looked the part of a hero. He also bore a striking resemblance to myself.

I smiled. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He, my dad, shrugged. "I wasn't really. I've been remembering things I'd rather have forgotten and had forgotten. That I would see you...well, it's not what I expected, but I've learned that life is full of such unexpected events and there is no point in being shocked."

Unsure of what to do, I said, "My name is Alexander Malfoy."

He nodded. "A good name. I'm surprised he didn't carry on his mother's tradition and name you after a star or constellation."

I shrugged. "So was Severus. I guess my father is a different man."

"He has been since...well, for a long time," he smiled. "Come on in and we can talk."

I followed him in and saw what resembled Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts. One room, with the bare necessities. Somehow, it fit. I sat when offered a seat and took the offered cup of water. It was a rather muggy and hot July.

"So, you're my son," he said.

"Yes," I answered. "No doubt about it. Not only do we look alike, but Severus made a potion for me so I would know."

"So Severus is alive?" he asked. "Is he doing well?"

"He has continued to receive awards for his potions work," I said, "and, well, my father and myself keep him on his toes."

"And your father?" He seemed hesitant, almost afraid, of the answer.

I smiled. "Good. Quiet and I think out of spirit, but good."

"Quiet?" He looked concerned.

I sighed and pulled out my recorder with the tapes I had. "I know you've been in exile for a really long time so you don't know what's been going on out there, what's happened." I looked at him, asking silently to tell him.

He sighed and sat back. "I suppose if you're here, I'm supposed to listen. Go ahead. Tell me."

~~~

_Malfoy Manner, Present_

Draco raised his eyebrow as he welcomed Hermione Weasley-Granger into his home. He wondered what she had to say after all this time.

"I'm here to help your son," she said, when she saw him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then why aren't you with him?"

She smiled. "He's off doing whatever he has to. It's just...he told me that he was trying to fix things, fix families. Or at least start them on the path to healing."

He rolled his eyes. "The boy is strong headed and will do what he wants. It'll do no good."

She shrugged. "Maybe, but I think he will. Anyway, I'm here to help him because there's a bit of information you might want to know."

He looked at her, saw the way she was standing. He sighed. "All right. What is it?"

"Well, you remember when the _Prophet_ found out Ginny was pregnant?"

~~~

_Stonehenge_

I watched as my dad stood and walked to the window. He looked lost in thought and very confused. I had just finished telling him about why I was on this quest instead of enjoying the summer months before starting my career or whatever I decided I was going to do. It was a long tale, considering I'd only had a vague plan when I'd started a week ago.

Wow. A week. While that seems such a short time, it felt like it had been such a long time ago that I'd known so little.

As we were each deep in our thoughts, there was a knock on the door.

Dad cursed. "All I got was seventeen years of quiet. Now I've got two visitors in an hour."

I smirked and he raised an eyebrow. "Your...father...used to do that...you do look like him."

I laughed. "And all your friends have told me I look like you."

He laughed, too, and then he answered the door.

_Harry_

Harry gasped when he saw Draco standing at the door. He looked harried, as if he'd run to the hut. Harry took in the site of his love and felt the years like a chasm between them. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly nervous.

Alex stood up behind them. "I'll go outside for a bit. Let you two talk."

Harry and Draco didn't acknowledge him except to move aside to let him out. Then, Draco stepped inside and they were alone for the first time in almost two decades.

~~~

_Grimmauld Place, 3 March 2006_

"No, Ginny! I'm through!" Harry yelled, uncaring of how Ginny felt. The twins had just called him on the Floo and told him what Ginny had done. Harry might've been gentler if she hadn't miscarried.

"But Harry! We belong together! Not you and that Death Eater scum!" She yelled in return.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe that...he was such an idiot. He had known that she was upset with him when they'd broken it off during the war last year, but to have done...And then to have dragged him into a bloody engagement...He couldn't believe...

"Harry," her voice was softer, calmer. The same tone she'd used before to try and sway him to her side.

He shook his head. "No. Get out, Ginny. Now!"

"Harry!"

"Enough, Gin." Harry looked over at the fireplace where Fred and George stood with their father. It was Arthur who had spoken. "You've done too much. Come on."

"No! I've got to--"

"Do nothing," George said. "You're coming home, now."

When Ginny opened her mouth to say something else, Fred cast a quick Body-Bind and she fell to the floor. He and his twin bustled her into the Floo and back to the Burrow. Arthur sighed.

"I'm sorry about this, Harry. I really am."

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. It's not anyone's fault. You'll make sure she regrets this?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"Thank you."

~~~

_Stonehenge, Present_

They looked at each other, each passing second healing every year of hurt and separation. Finally, it was Harry who broke the peace.

"Alex told me what he's doing and why," he said. "He was right to have started with his own family. After all, we both have the charisma to heal this world."

"But we have to fix us, first," Draco said. His eyes looked hopeful, but his tone was of despair.

"We haven't come too far to not fix it," Harry said. He shifted so he was sitting next to his love. "I wanted to tell you, but..."

"I had warded the Manor to not let you in," Draco murmured, blushing a bright red.

Harry smirked. "Doesn't matter. We know now."

Draco turned to face Harry. "Do you think we can fix this, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "I do. I really do." He bent and kissed Draco soundly, the years falling away and the passion brought them back to so many years before.

"He's waiting for us," Draco whispered.

"He's seventeen; he'll know to give us a little bit of time," Harry said.


End file.
